


touchstone

by softambrollins



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 18:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13323813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softambrollins/pseuds/softambrollins
Summary: He just wants — Dean. There, next to him. There, smiling in the passenger seat as he stuffs fries into his mouth. There, safe and asleep and breathing steadily in the bed next to his. There, across the ring, with his hand stretched out towards him. Like his only point of reference. His only constant. He wants to be able to reach out andtouchhim. Feel the weight and warmth of his body against him. Feel the lines of his palm pressed to his own, like they were meant to fit together.





	touchstone

**Author's Note:**

> Post-RAW 08/01/2018. This is just my very self-indulgent way of coping with Dean's injury.

It's been hard without Dean. A few weeks without him already feels like a lifetime. He's not sure how he's going to survive _months_ like this. But some days are better than others. And some days are — _worse_. Tonight — tonight was definitely _worse_. Almost too much to bear. He kind of wants to scream, to punch a fucking wall, to cry, to curl up in a ball and just go to sleep until this is all over.

He just wants — Dean. There, next to him. There, smiling in the passenger seat as he stuffs fries into his mouth. There, safe and asleep and breathing steadily in the bed next to his. There, across the ring, with his hand stretched out towards him. Like his only point of reference. His only constant. He wants to be able to reach out and _touch_ him. Feel the weight and warmth of his body against him. Feel the lines of his palm pressed to his own, like they were meant to fit together.

He'll settle for his voice, he supposes, the only glimpse of light in the darkness.

"Seth?" Dean says when he answers, like he's not expecting it. He talks to Dean often enough, but they're usually casual conversations about everything and nothing. It feels different, heavier, tonight, and maybe Dean can feel it too. "Are you okay?"

"What?" he asks absently.

"Seems like you had a rough night. And that's coming from _me_ —"

" _Oh_ ," Seth says, realising what he's actually talking about. "Right." He'd almost forgot. The Magic Killer. The Coup de Grace. Miz's attack. His body's sore but it's his confidence that's really been shaken. He's always known that the three of them together could do _anything_ , but without Dean, everything's unclear and disorienting again.

"So, are you okay?" Dean asks again.

"Yeah, yeah, it's — there are worse things, you know?" He hopes Dean doesn't read too much into that. "I think Roman got the worst of it."

Seth clenches his teeth, thinking about it. The grotesque display of disrespect. He's sure that Dean's blood had boiled just watching it from miles and miles away. He probably came up with dozens of very creative ways to pay them back. Slowly and painfully. Seth wonders how frustrated he is that he can't actually enact any of those plans.

"Where is he, anyway?" Dean asks casually. "Digging a grave for Angle's kid?"

Seth actually laughs at that. "Nah, I think he cooled down a bit."

"Sucks about the loss, though," Dean tells him quietly. He sounds almost wistful.

"It's okay," Seth says truthfully. "Won't be the last time we fight those dudes. They'll get what's coming to them. When you get back."

Dean's just quiet for a second. "Yeah, can't have Balor and his boys thinkin' they're something special."

"No, definitely not," Seth agrees. He lets out a breath. "So, how are _you_ doing anyway?"

"Not bad, man," Dean answers, and it sounds like he means it. "Just trying not to go out of my skull with boredom."

Seth knows all about that. And he's sure it must be even harder for Dean. Dean who can't sit still for more than a minute at a time. Dean who hasn't known anything but this — wrestling, fighting, being on the road, every week, every day, nonstop, for sixteen years.

"It'll get worse," he tells him. "But then it'll get better. You'll realise that putting everything on pause for a little while isn't really a bad thing. Even though it feels like the worst fucking thing in the world right now."

Dean sighs heavily. "I just wanna be back there. With you guys. Watching it on fucking TV is so fucking _infuriating_ —"

Seth smiles sadly to himself. "I know. You not being here is…" He lets it trail off, wondering if he's any condition to trust himself to not spill too much right now.

"Is...what?" Dean asks.

"Wrong," he says simply. "It's all… _wrong_. Being out there without you. Having this damn title around my waist when the other one should be _yours_. Standing in the ring next to Roman and both of us just _knowing_ — that there's something missing." Something vital. Something irreplaceable. Something absolutely intrinsic. To him. To them.

Dean's a piece of him now. A permanent piece of his heart. Maybe he's always been. Maybe that's why it was so terrifying.

Dean just seems to take that in for a minute. "It doesn't feel any better for me. Watching it," he admits. "Especially with all these assholes running around trying to fuck with us. And people talking about how maybe you guys are better off this way —"

"You know that's not true, right?" Seth interjects quickly. He knows how Dean gets sometimes, gets stuck inside his own head; he knows how hard it is for him to trust that everything's not eventually going to go to shit. How hard it probably still is for him to trust that Seth's not going to abandon him again. Seth can't exactly blame him for any of it, but he can be there to reassure him otherwise every single time. And that's what he intends on doing. Until Dean's sick of hearing it.

"Yeah, of course not," Dean says dismissively. "I'm the full package, baby. No one can replace all of _this_. Plus you know, without me, the average attractiveness of The Shield goes _way down_. So I'm just doing you guys a favour, really."

"Damn straight," Seth says with an amused smile.

"At least I have you to defend me," Dean says, and it comes out less teasing than he probably intended.

Seth laughs kind of deliriously at that. Dean doesn't even know how close to the truth his offhand joke really strikes. "Just hearing people say your name makes me so angry. I can't even explain it. It's like, they don't get to _talk_ about you, you know?"

It's irrational and probably fucking insane, but somehow he feels like Dean would get it.

"Aww, I didn't know you cared so much, Rollins." It's hard for him to hide the fondness in his voice, though.

"Shut up," he says, extremely grateful he's alone and no one can see the blush on his cheeks or the huge grin on his face.

"Seriously, though," Dean says after a second. "It's nice to see that stuff. Even when everything else feels like shit. So thanks. For not completely forgetting about me or whatever."

"I could never forget about you," Seth tells him, voice soft and maybe a bit too intimate.

"You really mean that, huh?" Dean says, sounding almost thrown by it now.

"Yeah. It's — fucking _hell_ without you," he says, rubbing his fingers over his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "I don't even know what I'm doing half the time. It's like — walking underwater. Everything's just out of focus and you don't know what direction you're heading. It's the _worst_ , man." Okay, definitely over-sharing now. Dean probably feels awkward as hell right now. He's about to say sorry for putting all this shit on him when —

"I — Yeah, I get it," Dean says, his voice sounding a lot smaller and more vulnerable than it usually is. "It's _weird_ , man. I know it hasn't been that long since we...you know, but it feels like it. And at the same time, it feels like we were just getting started, you know? And then it was just — _gone_."

"Yeah, exactly," Seth sighs.

"I'll be back really soon," Dean tells him firmly. "Before you know it."

Seth hopes he can make himself believe that. Hopes the promise of that will stop each day from feeling like another eternity.

"Do you, uh, do you remember that time Roman said that there's no Shield without Dean Ambrose?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he was right." _There's no me without you_ , he almost adds.

He hears Dean take a deep breath before swallowing hard. "Well, when you guys knock Miz's teeth down his throat, make sure he knows it was a gift from me, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Seth says, almost a promise of his own, a promise that Dean's always with him, with him and Roman, in everything they do. "Wouldn't have it any other way, man."


End file.
